The emerald Halo Runes wrapped around his wrist shattered and re-formed one after another, so rapidly that they seemed to transform into emerald flames. The burning Sacred Sword plunged once more into the charred wound along its original path. His rapidly working mind and surging pure psionic power showed that the Emperor was gradually gaining the upper hand in this contest of strength, yet there was not the slightest joy on his face, nor did Dormammu, who had fallen into a disadvantage, show any anger or impatience. Amon's muscles tensed. Neural electrical signals from his limbs passed through artificial synapses into the Power Armor's movement-assistance system, where they were converted into commands for the servos corresponding to each limb.
Some receivers failed for a long time to receive the proper electrical signals. The emergency auxiliary force-feedback power system and the servos also lost responsiveness. This suit of Power Armor had been firmly frozen in place, becoming a cage for the Praetorian Guard. He felt a roar building in his throat, accompanied by an unprecedented impatience flowing through his veins. He felt the Power Armor's exoskeleton begin to loosen, and he began to move millimeter by millimeter. Just like the Emperor and Dormammu, who were wielding time arcana, every tiny movement demanded immense effort.
"You still have the hardest problem left unsolved." Dormammu imitated the tone commonly used by the Sorcerer Supreme, trying to provoke the Emperor this way. Yet the Emperor's calm expression and steady psionic fluctuations concealed all emotion. Aside from the anger he had displayed at the beginning, he showed no more emotion than a stone. Dormammu did not care and continued, "The shackles on your genetically modified pet still remain. If you cannot solve this problem, even this long-lived genetically modified creature will die. Or is it